Clean Only On Cipritine
by Lamia-Kuei
Summary: Shepard visits Palaven and discovers that turians use public bathhouses. She ventures into one and discovers a lot more than expected about turian culture and hospitality. kmeme fill. OC characters.
1. Chapter 1

Shepard stared. She took another circuit of her hotel suite, returned to the starting position of her confusion, and reassessed. She is N7 and a Spectre. She could assess and reassess situations like her life depended on it, and it often did.

Her confusion was not abated.

Finally, with a shrug, she went to the console, typed in a series of codes that she needed her omnitool to list out for her and waited for Liara's face to show up.

"Hello, Shepard."

"Hello, Liara. I. Uh. I'm a little stumped right now and I figured that it's better to ask you because that way I don't accidentally cause a diplomatic incident with dummy-dumb-dumb human questions."

Liara's eyes crinkled with amusement.

"I recall that most diplomatic incidents where you are concerned have more to do with the barrel of your gun instead of words. But do go on."

"Okay. So I'm on Cipritine. I get the official tour. I get the hand shaking, small talking. I am swimming in my own sweat. It's HOT here, Liara."

Liara nodded.

"So finally, I'm let go so that the real diplomats can get to work and I'm in my hotel room and-"

Shepard pursed her lips.

"There's no shower or tub or anything. I'm staring at a toilet and a sink. Is this some kind of weirdly detailed prank? What gives?"

"It isn't a prank, Shepard. Private bathing facilities are an alien concept to turians, introduced only after their introduction into the wider galactic community."

And this was precisely why Shepard chose to call Liara instead of Garrus. (Besides not wanting to speak of personal hygiene stuff with a man.) Liara had that science-y tone when she spoke of alien cultures that forestalled embarrassment.

"...Okay. So what does that mean for me?"

"You will need the hotel concierge to give you a list of the nearest public bathhouses, Shepard."

Shepard envisioned the group shower stalls of boot camp. Okay. Sure. Why not? In fact, it made total, ironic sense that militaristic turian culture produced boot camp showering as a cultural norm.

"Okay. Will do. What's the etiquette, Liara? Strip, in and out in seven seconds, leave a tip? Or no tip? Nobody told me anything about tipping, by the way."

"You don't need to move at such speeds. You can't actually leave a bathhouse that quickly anyway, Shepard. They don't use water."

"...Huh. This is totally blowing my mind. It's actually alien, Liara. Because why would I assume like some human that turians use WATER to bathe? Incredible. You see how I could cause a diplomatic incident with ignorant human questions?"

Liara finally had to snicker.

"Turians rub oils onto their plates, which they then leave to set before scraping and rubbing off the excess. The process removes dirt, flakes from plate shedding, and improves the shine."

"Like car wax."

"Whatever metaphor works for you, Shepard."

"I guess it works for them, at least. It doesn't sound like it'd work for me."

"Try it out first," Liara was typing away and lights from activating screens flicked across her face. "Asari diplomats haven't been having any trouble with the local method, so it seems like you don't need plates to feel clean."

"Okay. Mission accepted. I'm going out to get detailed. Maybe I'll get an air freshener to wear around my neck after."

Liara shook her head fondly before waving and shutting off the connection.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

So after consulting with the concierge and a short taxi ride after, Shepard found herself in the lobby of a public bathhouse.

They were taking drink orders at the front desk.

Shepard was truly not expecting that. But hey, maybe oil setting did take as long as a drink, so why not? There were levo-friendly drinks on offer for the myriad of galactic visitors that passed through Cipritine regularly and she ordered one beer. To start.

She was a little perturbed to notice men getting into line also for the changing rooms.

And there goes their shirts.

Okay.

Right.

She glanced around and noted that none of the women were making a fuss as they stripped down also, putting their clothes into readily available bins and taking them to another desk, where their IDs were scanned and the bins put away for safe keeping.

There wasn't much point in staring at the floor and she was probably just as strange looking to the regulars as they were to her, so Shepard casually kept her gaze level as they got into another line. Ahead of her, turians were receiving their choice of oil (with different scents? Viscosities? Shepard couldn't read the menu), their drink if they did order one, a towel, and a scraping tool.

So Shepard kept her expression neutral as people chatted in the nude around her about normal, mundane subjects that did not coincide with her inner observations.

That turian armor added a lot of bulk to the average turian, because wow, they were all rather willowy and skinny up close and personal. Especially their arms.

That yes, actually, turian men kept their junk packaged internally, which made the whole situation more... dignified.

Or at least, not likely to cause her to burst into incident-causing laughter.

After she got her beer and cleaning supplies, she followed the other patrons to the actual bathing areas. The facility had a number of large rooms available, all alike in layout. The perimeter had alcoves with benches. The central area had more seating that you could lounge on while you waited for the oil to set and there were little tables scattered around to put your drinks down.

Shepard found a free lounging chair and after checking what others were doing, put a towel down first before sitting and taking a sip of her beer.

There were some people seriously multitasking by drinking, reading from datapads, with earbuds on and rubbing oil on themselves.

There was a group of women who had pushed a couple of the little tables together and were giving each other what looked like manicures while gossiping.

And there were some who simply seemed to be completely asleep. They rather looked like a row of turtles on a log.

Shepard put her beer down and squeezed out a dollop of oil onto her palm. She supposed she could start with her feet first.

"...Hello."

Shepard looked up. There was a lone stranger standing a respectable distance away (not that that helped with his height. She had to lift her chin so that she wasn't staring right at his crotch).

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"No. But. Ah, I'm sure you could, because you're Commander Shepard, and you've helped so many people-" the stranger managed to stop his babbling. "...It's a real honor to meet you. That's what I mean."

"Sure. It's nice to meet you too," she graciously offered her hand out. "Mr..."

"I'm Tysten Juncus," he shook her hand. "I'll leave you to your bathing, Commander."

She watched him go. He was apparently with a group of other turian men, obviously his friends who had been watching their exchange with some interest from their spot at one of the alcoves at the perimeter of the room. Judging from some laughing and ribbing as he neared, he was probably dared into introducing himself. Shepard resumed rubbing oil on herself after rolling her eyes. Boys and their boy behavior.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

She then noticed yet another turian man approaching. Seriously, was this going to be one of those I-can't-get-anything-done-because-of-fans kind of days?

Fortunately, he passed to her left, stopping near a woman sitting three lounge chairs down the row.

Shepard paid half attention as he introduced himself. They made small talk. And then he offered to help the woman with oiling her back.

Shepard glanced up at the woman, who was also in the middle of oiling herself. Something about the situation had changed. The air was charged with something that even Shepard could feel from the way the woman's hands paused at her keel before sliding down her stomach and continued, the pads of her fingers moving over her waistline, staring up at the man.

The silence stretched and Shepard had unconsciously stopped moving, curious.

"You may," the woman's voice was low and inviting.

The woman shifted on the lounge chair, now facing Shepard as he stepped over and took a seat beside her, his mandibles flaring with gratification at her permission. Shepard resumed oiling up to her knees as they spoke and helped each other.

The woman let out a low laugh from something he'd said and he ducked his head down, resting one of the prongs of a mandible on the rim of her cowl, as he whispered into her ear. She responded with a croon. She shifted next to him and whoa, okay, that's turian vulva and it's blue.

Shepard hastily looked away. That was crossing the line, wasn't it? It's one thing to flirt like at a bar and that seemed normal enough, but somebody was going to notice and say something about ladies flashing their bits, right?

And Shepard was sure there was a difference because up to now everybody's crotches were nondescript and definitely not blue, thanks.

Turning away had taken her gaze towards the alcoves.

There was another couple in one of them, in plain view of everybody else, licking at each other's necks and hands very decisively stroking over each other's waists. Huh. Just about no plating there, she couldn't help noting; must be sensitive.

And turian dick is blue too.

What. The. Hell.

Shepard took the time to take another drink of her beer in a bid to rally her mind. She assessed. Of course those gossiping ladies with the manicures had seen them. Of course the one guy with his datapad had to have seen them, they were right in his line of sight. And let it not be said that adult turians with their run through mandatory military service had bad situational awareness.

So if multiple people saw and haven't done anything by the time it got to... emergence, it must mean that nobody cared. At all.

Mind. Boggling.

Shepard had to take another drink when the man in the alcove had enough of playing around, standing up and guiding his partner into position, with her bracing herself against the wall and her legs spread, and him taking hold of her hips before rocking his way in.

Cripes, she could see his glutes clenching as he made a fair try at fucking the appreciative lady through the wall.

It was at this point that Shepard gave up and just lay back on the lounge chair, clutching at her bottle like a life raft.

She vaguely noted the warmth on her cheeks and the newly insistent sensation from between her legs from the sight.

Okay, well, that was kind of alarming, but kind of not, because holy heck, that guy had the regularity of a metronome and it was all being powered by a tight little alien ass that didn't quit.

She hadn't thought about turian asses before, besides sort of noting that there didn't seem to be much of them, to go with their trim waistlines and generally slim overall appearances.

There was a flanging pleased sound to her left and scraping noises.

She'd momentarily forgotten that some action was going on to her left.

Shepard schooled her expression into studied indifference and looked.

The woman was straddling his lap, and the spareness of her ass and thighs weren't hiding the sight of his cock pistoning in and out of her. She was breathlessly clutching at him, licking at his neck and his eyes slid shut.

Right damn near in the middle of an entire room of strangers. Who were all naked.

What if there was a domino effect and this was a precursor to a full blown orgy?

What was she going to do?

Pull up her omnitool recording features and start narrating like out of a wildlife documentary with a posh accent, perhaps? Offer to assist with toweling down between breaks for snacks?

I'm going to need another drink, she thought. My brain's already obviously broken by the radiation on this planet.

"Commander Shepard?"

She opened her eyes. This stranger was vaguely familiar as one of the group that included Tysten Juncus. He was far more self assured than Tysten had been, however, immediately offering his hand in greeting.

"Senecio Fallaxian. I've been pressed into a scouting role by my compatriots. Will you assist me, Commander?"

There was a droll quality to his speech that charmed her. She shook his hand.

"Maybe I can. Tell me what the mission parameters are."

"On your part? To not react with violence would be convenient, mostly to my health. You have quite the formidable reputation and I do like my limbs attached."

"I'll try my best. Reacting with violence is sort of a specialty of mine," Shepard grinned.

"Fair enough. May I offer, on behalf of..." he made a indicative tilt of his head towards the alcove where his friends were. Shepard noted that Tysten ducked his head near immediately, neck flushing blue. "interested parties, to help you with your back?"

Shepard's eyebrows rose.

"Help me with my back?" she repeated incredulously.

The woman on their left made another breathy, flanging groan.

"... If you would like," Senecio made an insouciant shrug. "Do you, Commander?"

This was surreal.

"The man at my nine o'clock offered to help her with her back. Is that what you mean, mister?" Shepard turned her Spectre glare on to test.

To his credit, Senecio didn't flinch.

"If you would like," he simply repeated, flicking his mandibles playfully once.

"Well," Shepard took another, final, drink from her bottle. "Why the hell not? Who am I to stop a smooth talker like you from successfully completing a little scouting mission?"

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

It amused Shepard that as she stood up and collected her oil and towel, Senecio's group of friends gasped in surprise and there was a flurry of movement to clear room for her as they approached.

Senecio made the introductions. Tysten, she knew already. Athrys Filix was the only other without Palaveni marks (his was a blocky set of white radial stripes fanning out over his forehead, cheeks, mandibles and chin). And rounding out the group was Crispin Dactylon.

She set her towel down next to Tysten and Senecio returned to his spot.

"So, how about a little debriefing? Why send you out?" Shepard looked at him.

"Because I am not provincial and have successfully propositioned partners outside of my species," Senecio replied frankly. "Also, I am a top class sprinter, so the risk was deemed acceptable."

Shepard snorted.

"Okay, wise guy. Makes sense. But the interested parties in question..." she looked at Tysten, who gulped. "I wouldn't have minded if you asked, you know."

"Oh..." Tysten muttered.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's rather overawed at this moment," Athrys drawled.

"He has a poster of you," Crispin added. "He's that big of a fan."

Poor Tysten looked like he was about to melt into a puddle of embarrassment, so Shepard scooted closer to him, presenting her back to him.

"You said you wanted to help? Go right ahead," she smiled over her shoulder with encouragement.

He managed not fumble as he started to spread a dollop of oil over her back, making a surprised noise at the first feel of her skin.

She quirked an eyebrow in question. Senecio got another drop of oil and reached out, taking one of her arms and began rubbing it in.

"You're softer than an asari, I dare say," he looked surprised. "Nice."

That was enough to have Athrys and Crispin moving to join in, curious. Shepard sighed, finding their care and the warmth of their palms entirely relaxing over her shoulders, arms, and over her navel.

"Tysten, she's done on her back, isn't she?"

Tysten made an affirmative noise.

"Well, then. Time to go on, right?"

Tysten slid his hands down slowly and Shepard felt him kneading at her waist. Senecio's mandibles worked, observing her.

"Ah. So, more like the asari."

He slid up with both hands and cupped her breasts. Shepard's eyes opened with a sharp intake of breath.

"Whoa, there."

"Commander?"

He was still moving, smoothing his palms along the underside of her breasts. It was suddenly very clear that he knew what he was doing and that yes, it was going to happen if she would let it. Athrys and Crispin had one hand each on her thighs, not moving, watching and waiting for her reaction.

And as if to further punctuate the potential, that couple in the the middle of the room were still going at it. Granted, in a different position, with her on her back, her legs propped up on his shoulders.

"Go on," she nodded.

Senecio's mandibles flared into a quick grin before he guided her so that she was being held in the crook of Tysten's arm, one of her arms over his shoulder. Shepard shifted a little, getting used to the texture of his plates and hide, before settling into place, leaning against him.

"Tysten?"

"Ah?"

Tysten seemed to be in a dreamlike stupor over the fact that he was holding Shepard.

"Do pay attention."

Senecio got his drink and dipped a finger into it. He withdrew and hovered his finger over one of Shepard's nipples. A drop of liquor formed on one talon and finally dripped down, making her gasp, as her nipple hardened from the warmth of the liquor. He did the same to the other. Tysten's mandibles fluttered, fascinated.

"There. Now clean that up with your tongue, Tysten."

Tysten blinked and moved to obey, dipping his head and with great delicacy lapped at a nipple. Shepard made another pleased sound and he crooned in reply, moving to the other.

A great languor took over Shepard's body and she could barely keep her eyes open, hardly noticing as Senecio joined Athrys and Crispin's stroking and kneading of her thighs, working more oil onto her skin. They gradually got her legs spread apart and she had to open her eyes for that. They were looking at her.

"Problem?" her voice was breathy.

"Not at all. Just takes a little getting used to. Asari are blue too, you know."

Shepard nodded in understanding before stroking her fingers along the softer hide of Tysten's neck, making him purr and cup his hand over a breast, kneading there as he'd seen Senecio do while he continued to lick her. He kept his touch light, unused to the rolling feel of it, delighting in how he was pleasing her.

Senecio was done getting the lay of the land, so to speak, and was circling the pad of a finger alongside her clit, knowing very well not to jump directly on. She shuddered and it was an irrevocable call, Athrys and Crispin joined in, echoing Senecio's lead. She was glistening wet now from a combination of oil and her own desire and they couldn't get enough of the feeling of it on their fingers. Shepard had never felt anything like this, so many fingers petting and stroking her with singular purpose, so thoroughly and completely and all that tension from seeing the two couples beforehand rose up in Shepard and she cried out, tightening her grip on Tysten as she came.

Tysten continued to hold her until she could open her eyes to look up at them. Athrys and Crispin had resumed petting her thighs and hips. Senecio was taking another drink.

"Would you like to continue?" he finally asked.

Shepard smiled.

"Well, since Tysten's my biggest fan, I think I'll start with him. What do you want, hmm?"

She caressed his neck some more and Tysten flushed again.

"Anything you want," he replied. "I don't know."

Shepard glanced at Senecio. She certainly didn't know what would be good for Tysten and she wanted it to be good. Senecio understood.

"Would you have a problem sucking him, Shepard?"

She quirked an eyebrow while Tysten startled.

"Come on, Tysten," Senecio laughed. "You've asked me enough times about it. Now is the time to find out for yourself. It's a treat."

"... Okay. If Shepard agrees."

"Sure, I'll suck you off. To start."

She smiled at his eager expression and moved so that she was between his legs.

"Shepard, however slowly you think you ought to go, go slower than that. Gently. He won't last otherwise."

Tysten made a protesting cough.

"Honestly, you'll see. You two, also, if you're lucky," Senecio gestured at Athrys and Cripsin, who were avidly watching.

Shepard looked down at Tysten's emerged hardness. Blue, ridged, but not otherwise giving her any doubts about how to handle it. She leaned in, steadying it with a hand and started kissing it after licking her lips, letting her lips explore the texture of it.

The slickness of it that she assumed was the natural lubrication was... more than acceptable in taste. This was going to be fun.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

He made strangled noises as she licked at him, slow and leisurely like Senecio recommended, working her way around the head, gathering up strangely sweet precum as she went. Tysten's mandibles slacked, barely believing the sight and feel of it as she eased her lips over the tip, a little, a little, the clasping welcome of it counterpoint to the faint alarm he still had at the helplessness of his situation.

Shepard slid down a little more and when she gave a light suck, Tysten's wordless, thrumming cry was echoed by the others, a chorus of desire. What was he telling them with his vibrating purring, what were they saying back? Shepard had no idea, only the sure knowledge that she was being watched and finding that it made her euphoric while doing this, like no other time that she'd put her mouth on a man.

So she bobbed her head and gave him more, making him writhe and his breath catch, ratcheting his tones with every moment of press and slide, until she felt a sudden firm grip on her shoulders, pulling her back just as Tysten shot, his spill landing on her chest.

"Pardon," Senecio murmured. "He was past actual words and I assume you aren't versed in that aspect of our language."

Shepard shrugged in agreement, picking up a towel to wipe. She watched Tysten's cock subside, fascinated in her turn by the sight of it slipping back between his groin plates.

"Shepard..." Tysten's voice was all wonderment and shyness.

Crispin made an abrupt trill that changed into a groan and Shepard looked. Athrys was licking and nipping at the exposed hide on Crispin's side, kneading the seam of his groin plates with one hand while teasingly holding them firmly shut with the other.

"You two couldn't be more patient?" Senecio asked, chuckling.

"Oh, just go on already... It's just as good to watch- Aaaah, Athrys, please-!"

"You got that right," Shepard murmured, completely absorbed in the way Athrys was expertly plying Crispin, bending him to his will until Crispin's knees trembled before giving up. Athrys quickly had him on his back, pressing their cocks together in his grip and he thrummed smugly before making a deliberate stroke that forced out another round of fervent pleading from Crispin.

Senecio made a purr in agreement, before moving so that she could keep her view of them, guiding her so that she was straddling him. Shepard licked her lips, anticipatory. He squeezed out another dollop of oil into his palms, before putting them on Shepard's buttocks, squeezing them. She smiled as he started massaging, spreading them every so often.

He continued and Shepard didn't realize immediately until Tysten made a hungry noise that Senecio was making a show of it for him, her ass up in his direction. She quirked her eyebrow at Senecio after she caught on, smiling with approval.

Tysten approached and Senecio held her apart for him. He petted her there, lingering as he had not the chance before, coaxing out little cries from her as he found her clit.

"Shepard, let me?" Tysten leaned over her, his breath hot on her neck.

Let him, let him, Athrys and Crispin echoed, for they were watching him watching her.

"Do it."

She held her breath at the first nudge and they both groaned as he sank in, the way made easy from her first orgasm. She gave an experimental squeeze that had him gasping out a curse and Senecio laughed once before cupping her breasts again, dragging his tongue over her nipples.

"Oh, fuck," she blurted out and Tysten took it as a command because he started to move then, rocking her with that perfect, perfect steady pace that she'd admired from the start of it all.

Fuckfuckfuck- she chanted in her head and perhaps out loud, and Athrys and Crispin were moving at that pace also, joining their voices together with Tysten's desperate cries.

It was gloriously too much; Senecio's knowing attention to her nipples and fuck- he's reached down and put his finger on her clit, Tysten's determined hard rhythm, and watching Athrys and Crispin wrestling and bucking on the floor-

Shepard clenched down hard on last time as she hit that limit, biting her lip, the shock of it made Tysten stumble once before he gripped hard on her hips, hitching himself up and emptying into her.

Senecio held the both of them up, purring out praise at their vigor. Tysten withdrew, petting Shepard's waist before going to sit and leaning sated against the wall. Athrys made a satisfied thrum, licking at Crispin's neck before moving aside so that he could sit up.

"You. You haven't-" Shepard finally looked down.

Senecio made another shrug.

"I'll-"

"Hold your position, soldier," Shepard took hold of him, aligning herself.

Senecio's mandibles shivered.

"This right here between my legs? This is a battlecage of orgasms and you-" she sank down. "are going to give me victory. Copy that?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Senecio couldn't help the ingrained response to that particular tone from any superior.

He kept hold of her waist, steadying her, and bucked up, making her gasp. The angle was good and she grit her teeth as he moved, forcing out more obscenity from her. She arched her back, flushed and abandoned into her pleasure.

FuckfuckshitfuckYES-!

He held her, the both of them gasping for air.

She needed help from Tysten to get back to her seat. They all reclined in silence. Shepard stretched, already feeling the soreness and not regretting it one bit.

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

Back at the hotel room, she made sure to order a nice gift basket with primo booze for Liara. She lay back in her bed with a great big stupid grin on her face. This trip was turning out to be immensely eye opening in a cultural sense in the best way.

Her omnitool beeped.

She sat up to answer.

"Garrus?"

"Hi, Shepard. How are you liking the old home town?"

"It's been very welcoming, actually."

"I take that you haven't pulled your gun on anybody yet, then."

"Laugh it up, Garrus."

"Sure. Um. I'm on the next shuttle; got to attend non-negotiable family business."

"Nothing bad, I hope."

"Nah. Not so much. Couple cousins getting out of boot camp, birth announcements, that sort of thing."

"I see."

"So. Yeah."

Shepard closed her eyes, a sudden warmth in her chest from realization breaking clear and clean.

"Garrus?"

"Yeah?"

"I got the official tour of Cipritine. But nothing beats the inside scoop from a local. Are you free?"

"Oh, sure. You want the scoop, I can do that."

"Great. And when you get here?"

"Yeah?"

"I might need a little help. With my back."

Finis


End file.
